


Henry the Ink Demon

by HershelChocolate



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Henry found dead in the studio, Hes alright but he died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:07:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HershelChocolate/pseuds/HershelChocolate
Summary: Henry finds out that there's more to all these pentagrams and ink than meets the...eye *badumts*





	Henry the Ink Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this over on my batim au tumblr @sammy-and-the-au-Machine but figured I'd post it over here. A short beginning to the Ink Monster Henry AU. Might write more for it someday, but this'll be it's own thing.

The studio was just as creepy as ever, the long winding hallways never failing to make Henry nervous, especially since he lost his axe.

But it wasn’t all bad, he supposed. I’ve got Boris with me now which is…interesting to say the least. 

The two emerged together in a large room, several hallways appearing to lead in different directions. 

“Gosh Henry…which way should we go?”

Henry hesitated. Something about the taller toon still made him a bit uneasy.

“…How about I check out what’s down here…And you go check down there? But only for a few minutes, then we come back”

Boris perked up, already heading towards the hallway Henry had pointed out. “Sounds good, buddy! See you soon!”

Henry made sure the wolf had left before he sighed, heading in the opposite direction.

It was a remarkably boring hallway, with nothing to take notice of except an unusually high amount of ink pipes. But even those were starting to become familar. 

Henry stopped before entering the next room, allowing himself just a moment to relax. He needed time to clear his head after everything that’s happened. 

He never got the chance. 

A sudden groaning noise caught his attention. He turned just in time to see one of the pipes on the wall burst. The other five followed suit, quickly flooding the entire hallway with ink. 

Henry tried desperately to get away, but he was shoved roughly into the main room by a sudden deluge of ink. It completely covered his head for just a moment before he popped back up. 

He carefully opened his eyes, making sure there wasn’t any ink in them. What he saw made him freeze. 

The entire room, and even some of the hallways connecting to it, had been flooded with at least eight inches of ink. It was an unreasonable amount of the odd liquid. Where did Joey even get all of it?

The sound of wood creaking made him turn. Suddenly, a door from the hallway he had just left burst open, bringing forth another wave of ink. 

This one succeeded in knocking Henry over, and once again he was plunged underneath the ink. 

He waited until he thought he was above the liquid to start coughing. Evidently, he wasn’t.

He mouth instantly filled with the foul tasting ink, but spitting it out didn’t help. It seemed to have a mind of its own, trying desperately to throw itself down his throat. 

Panic took over, and he opened his eyes to see the threat he needed to get rid of. This ended up being a very big mistake, as he was still under the ink. 

Quickly standing up, he coughed violently, crying out in pain and covering his eyes. Where was Boris?!

A noise caught his attention. He still couldn’t see, his eyes stinging painfully, but he could tell what it was when he heard it. 

Searchers. 

And he lost his axe.

Great. 

He backed up, not knowing where he was going, chest burning from the black ink still contained within. 

Suddenly, what felt like a hand reached out and grabbed his leg, quickly yanking it and sending him towards the floor once again. It was only when he realized he could still breathe that he noticed the ink was slowly draining. 

But not fast enough. The Searchers all eagerly approached. Henry tried desperately to get away, still covering his eyes as he tried to clear them of ink. His efforts proved to be in vain, as he was quickly overtaken. 

—– 

He poked his head up out of the ink. His vision was nearly as bad as Henry’s was right now, but he could tell the fight had stopped. Approaching slowly, he inspected the damage. 

He wasn’t expecting so many of the pipes to break. Backing up the flow from one or two to coat the old man in the stuff was all he wanted, but now it seemed that his actions had more…fatal consequences. 

He shooed the Searchers away and checked for any chance to save him. Ironic really, that he wanted to. But it was no use, he was gone. And the pentagram that had been resurrecting him before seemed to be out of range. 

He angrily kicked at the ink, causing the nearby Searchers to back up nervously. Glancing back down at the still form in the ink, he suddenly got an idea. 

Reaching up, he could easily reach the ceiling. With shaking hands, he drew a sloppy pentagram on the ceiling, making sure to include all the right symbols. 

With any luck, this thing would catch Henry’s spirit and send it back.

Fingers crossed. 

—– 

Henry realized he must be alive, seeing as how every muscle in his body was in extreme agony. He hesitantly opened his eyes, and panicked as he realized he couldn’t see anything. 

Had the ink blinded him? What happened? Where was he? How much time had passed?

And why did he feel so…goopy?

Henry tried to stand, and quickly fell back down. Nothing was right. He couldn’t feel his left arm, his hearing was muffled at best, and he still couldn’t see a thing. 

Panic took over. What had happened?!

Suddenly, he noticed a sound. It sounded like…a voice?

“Hey Henry, I heard what happened! Had to wait until it drained a bit so I didn’t get all ruined, sorry about that! Are yo-HENRY!”

Henry turned towards the voice. He tried to speak, to call out to Boris, to ask him what was wrong, but he couldn’t. Nothing came out, he couldn’t speak. 

He heard splashing, and could feel vague pressure on his face. Boris had grabbed both his cheeks, and was trying to look for any signs of recognition in his eyes. 

“Buddy? You there? What happened, are you okay?!”

Henry almost laughed. Instead he groaned, everything hurt. He set his right hand on Boris’ arm, not enjoying the dripping sensation it brought. 

“Oh Henry, what happened to you? You’re all goopy and inky…You look like a Searcher!”

That was when it hit him. There _were_ Searchers here, weren’t there? Did they just…dissapear?

No, there was something else to this. Something didn’t feel right. 

He didn’t realize he was panicking until Boris suddenly cried out. Henry quickly pulled his now-clawed hand away from the sound. He tried waving it in front of his face, but his vision was still blank. 

Everything was going wrong. What had caused this? He was dead. He knew he was. He remembered it. Why was he here?

And why was Boris suddenly pulling on his arm?

“Buddy, come on, we gotta go! We gotta get outta here! Can you move?!”

A shift in the ink, like footsteps, finally brought Henry back to reality. Yes, yes he should move. Now. 

He tried desperately to get away from the source of the movement, but he still wasn’t used to his new inky form. He made little headway before he felt a clawed hand grab his…shoulder?

Henry couldn’t hear properly, but he swore that growl was familar. 

“Wh…what do you mean? ‘It went wrong’? What went wrong?”

Now he was definitley hearing things. He looked fearfully at the noise, trying desperately to see through the layers of ink, but to no avail. 

The hand shoved him roughly back in the ink, and he heard Boris approaching quickly. 

“H-he let you go? Wh…why? What happened? What did you do Henry?”

He tried to say something, to explain what had happened, but his voice still refused to work. Instead, he made a whining noise, and put his head in his hand, his entire left arm still refusing to work. 

It was impossible to leave the studio now. 

He was as trapped as everyone else was.


End file.
